Four Times Sam Listened, and One Time He Didn't
by Mr. JRyan
Summary: Sammy always listened to him. Why was this time different? PreSeries


**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester. It's the sad, sad truth… but writing fanfictions and playing with the boys for a little while cheers me up!

**Title**: Four Times Sam Listened To Dean, And One Time He Didn't

**Status**: One Shot/Complete

**Setting**: All different situations are Pre-Series. I'll let you know how old the boys are in each, don't worry.

**Summary**: Sammy always listened to him. Why was this time different?

**Author's Note**: I thought of this idea while I was sitting outside my school in the break/smoking area. I wanted to do a story where Dean gives Sam 'the talk,' but then realized that I'd be kind of pointless to do two of those stories. I already have one! So I formed it into this idea… so yeah.

**Warnings**: erm... none, really. talk of sex and condoms, but that's about it.

-.-.-.-

Dean looked around the parking lot as he leaned against his car, waiting for a fourteen year old Sam to get done with his classes. See, Sam was a freshman in high school this year. It was his first day at a brand new school with brand new people. Thankfully, Dean had graduated the year before. He really hated school. Now he'd never have to deal with it again.

Dean smiled slightly as he saw Sam heading through the main doors, talking to a few people. So Sammy had made some new friends. That was good. Sam needed some friends. He needed a little bit of normalcy. He needed people to rely on that weren't his family. But Dean's smile quickly turned into a frown as the guys started to lead Sam away from the school, the youngest Winchester looking a little bit uncomfortable in the situation.

Following the group with his eyes, Dean stepped away from the impala, discretely following the group as they turned a few corners, sneaking off behind a portable in the back, covered by the shade of a few trees. Well, that wasn't suspicious at all. Maybe Sammy making a few friends wasn't a good thing after all… Dean listened to the group as they began to talk, his trained ears picking up on the words, even though he was a few yards away.

"Go on, Sam. Try it. It won't bite," one of the older kids said, handing something to Sam that looked suspiciously like a joint of weed. Those damn sixteen year olds. Trying to get the younger kids into crap that they really shouldn't get into. Dean was going to beat his ass. He really was.

Part of Dean wanted to go over there do exactly that. No one was going to manipulate his brother like that. And he wanted to give Sam a good smack on the head for even hanging out with these kids. But another part of Dean, the more sensible part (granted, that part didn't usually win out when it came to matters involving his brother), wanted to wait. To see what Sam was going to do. If he was smart and listened to his wiser, better looking older brother. Dean hoped so.

"Actually, Johnny—"

The older boy, Johnny, interrupted Sam, lighting up the joint before passing it to the youngest Winchester. "Come on. You want to be cool, don't you? This is cool, Sam. Really. Do this and you're going to make a lot of friends around these parts. Don't and, well… things won't be as pleasant for you."

Sam stood there, hesitating as he stared at the joint, and for a moment Dean was scared that his brother was actually going to fall for that crap. But he should've known better. This was _Sammy_ they were talking about.

"Sorry, Johnny. I promised my older brother—"

"So, your brother controls your life, eh, Winchester?" another boy said, who was standing beside Johnny, his arms crossed. "Pathetic."

"Hey, Adam, back off," Johnny said, coming to Sam's defense. "I'm an older brother, too, you know? And if Matt went against what I said, I'd be pretty pissed. Leave Winchester alone." He looked over at Sam, a smug look upon his face. "You're pretty okay, Winchester." When Sam looked relieved at the turn of events, Johnny pushed him away a bit. "Now go before I change my mind about you." Sam quickly nodded, before rushing away from the group.

As Dean passed him, he grabbed Sam's arms, startling the younger Winchester. Sam pushed Dean against the portable, before realizing who it was, and letting his brother go. The increasingly growing one of the two shifted from foot to foot, rubbing his neck. "Dean—"

"You did good, Sammy. Real good," Dean said, clapping a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Now let's say you and I get out of here, yeah? I think we could sneak some ice cream on the way home… Just don't tell Dad."

Sam smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

-.-.-.-

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he shot at the poltergeist that was steadily knocking things over around his brother, intending on doing some serious damage. The fifteen year old quickly dove out of the line of fire, behind a table turned on its side, behind which John had taken cover as he was reloading his gun.

God, Dean hated this. Sure, fine, John could take him along on hunts like this. He didn't care. Poltergeists were actually a pretty fun hunt in his eyes. His adrenaline was pumping and he felt like he was on top of the world. Dean would go on more of these hunts if John would let him. But Sam? Sam always seemed to be the target in these. He was always the one who got hurt, some way or another. It was like the freakin' spirit sensed something in Dean's brother, and decided that taking him out first was the best solution. Only, really, that just caused more work for John and Dean. Simple solution? Sam should've staid at the motel.

Not that they couldn't use the mini-sasquatch. They could, most definitely. Sam had one hell of a shot and knew exactly what he was doing. John had trained him well. Dean also liked to think he had a little bit to do with his younger brother's hunting skills. But, _god damn_, Dean was tired of saving his ass. It was the same thing over and over. Apparently the supernatural world didn't get the hint that you shouldn't mess with Sam Winchester, because Dean Winchester would make sure you burned in hell.

"Sam, go!" John yelled as the poltergeist started throwing knives at the offending table. The two were just able to get out from behind it before it was flipped over, and crashed to the ground. The wood easily fell apart, the edges of the knives in the same spot John and Sam had just been mere seconds before.

Sam ducked behind the counter where Dean was hiding out, peaking up every few seconds to take a few shots. Dean gave Sam a quick once over. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm—" Sam was cut short as a cutting board suddenly flew through the air, heading towards Dean. The younger Winchester didn't think, just acted. He quickly pushed Dean out of the way, before it hit him in the back of the head, knocking him out cold. Oh no. Sam.

"Sam!" Dean yelled in surprise, looking over at John quickly. The oldest Winchester nodded, silently telling Dean to get his brother out of the house while he distracted the malevolent spirit. John quickly ran into the next room, yelling something about something or other, while Dean lifted his brother up and rushed towards the front door.

As soon as Dean felt that they were a good ways away from the house and Sam wouldn't be in any more danger, Dean set his brother down on the ground, shaking him slightly as he tapped Sam's cheek. "Come on, Sammy. Wake up for me." When Sam started to stir, Dean nodded, running his hand along the back of Sam's head to check for any major injuries. "That's it, Sam. You're okay. I got you now."

Sam opened his eyes slowly, looking up at his big brother. He smiled softly. "Are you okay?"

It was all Dean could do to not hit Sam over the head for being such a selfless little bitch. He instead decided on a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Me? I'm not the one who just got hit in the head, dude. What the hell were you thinking?"

"You told me to always have your back, Dean. That you needed me to watch out for you," Sam said simply. He attempted to sit up, but Dean gently pushed him back down on the ground, forcing him to lay there for a little while longer. "That's all I was doing."

Dean allowed himself a small smile, shaking his head. "You need to stop taking everything I say so seriously."

-.-.-.-

"Hey, Dean, we need to talk."

Dean looked up from the knife he was sharpening to the image of his sixteen year old brother looking a bit uncomfortable as he stood in the doorway to the living room. Oh boy. Sam didn't look like that too much. The last time he wore that expression was when John was talking to him about how certain… _urges_ were completely normal… right after the man had walked in on his youngest son pleasuring himself. Yeah, in the sexual kind of way. Dean hoped that Sam didn't want to talk about anything like that. Oh god, no.

"Yeah, sure, Sammy," Dean said, setting his knife down on the coffee table as he quietly cleared his throat, waiting for his brother to sit down. When Sam didn't say anything for several moments, Dean raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Well… I…" Sam fidgeted in his chair, looking away from his older brother. "I hung out with Heather last night…" he trailed off, referring to his current girlfriend.

"Yeah, I know," Dean said, furrowing his eyebrow. Dean had been the one to drop Sam off at the girl's place. And pick him up for that matter. "So?"

"Well… we almost…" Sam looked awkward as he looked up at his brother for a second or two, immediately looking back down at the table. "We, um… Almost…" He then mumbled something that Dean couldn't quite make out.

"Come again?" Dean asked, partially amused by this, and partially scared out of his wits.

"We almost had sex," Sam said, looking up at Dean as his face started to take on a nice shade of red.

Dean's eyebrows shot straight up, and he cleared his throat for a moment, looking down at his knife as he pretended to inspect it. Oh, fabulous. Dean knew he'd have to talk about this with Sam sooner or later. The kid was sixteen, after all. Dean was just hoping that John would get to it before him. Apparently not. After a few moments, Dean looked back up at his little brother. "Oh."

"You just… you said that you wanted me to talk to you about it before I, uh… did anything. So… here I am," Sam said, looking unsure as his eyes darted around the room, trying to look at anything except his brother.

"Well… erm… thanks. For coming to me first, I mean," Dean said, nodding slightly. Oh god. He was talking to his little brother about sex. Please shoot him now. "Um… did you, uh… buy anything?" When Sam just raised his eyebrows, finally making eye contact with Dean, the older of the two cleared his throat again. "Condoms, Sam."

"Oh!" Sam said, his face going even redder at the word. "Y-Yeah… I did…"

"Good," Dean said, squirming in his seat slightly. "That's really good. I'm glad you know how to… practice… safe sex… Erm… Stay protected… Don't get anyone pregnant… Don't get any STDs… Umm… You… You know how to put on a condom, right?"

"Yes," Sam said quickly, and Dean wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or just didn't want to have to go through a demonstration on how to correctly put on a condom with his older brother. That would've been awkward.

Dean paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly at his brother. "Are you sure…?"

"Dean, are you seriously suggesting that you want to show me?" Sam asked in a small voice, looking mortified.

"Might as well go over it," Dean said, shrugging slightly. "Go grab me one of your condoms and a banana out of the kitchen."

"No," Sam said quickly, shaking his head as he stood up. "No, no, _no_. No way, Dean. I know how to put on a condom. I've taken health class. I really, _really_ don't need you to show me. Really. I'm okay. Really." He paused, swallowing hard. "I'm just gonna… go study… I, uh… I have a big test tomorrow."

"Sam, I just want to make sure you're prepared, that's all," Dean said, a little bit amused at his brother's awkwardness about the subject.

"I'm prepared!" Sam said quickly. "Studying now. Bye." Before Dean could say another word, Sam quickly left the living room, heading down the hall.

John chose that moment to come home. Good timing.

Dean reached over and grabbed a gun from the far end of the coffee table, handing it to his father. "Do me a favor. Shoot me. Please." John just raised his eyebrows, looking slightly confused.

-.-.-.-

"Dean, your phone's ringing," John called out in a dull voice as he watched TV in another dingy motel. Dean looked up from one of the newspapers he was reading, scouting for another gig, and sighed. He set the paper down and walked into the kitchen, where his cell phone had been charging, and answered it as he saw Sam's familiar face on the screen. "Sam?"

_"Dean, I need you to come and get me. Please."_

The sound of his seventeen year old brother looking so obviously lost and unsure tugged at Dean's heart, and he immediately went into older brother mode, not bothering to mask the concern that he was sure was evident in his voice. "Yeah, sure, okay. I'll be right there, Sammy." No questions asked, Dean quickly hung up and grabbed his keys, heading outside.

That night, Sam had decided to do something that he usually didn't do. He decided to go out to a party with some of his friends. Now, usually, Dean wouldn't allow this, but John had overthrown him on the matter. He said that Sam was seventeen now; he could go to a party if he damn well pleased. Dean wasn't happy about it, but he dealt with it. He couldn't argue with John, after all. So he did the only thing he could think of; he lectured Sam. No drinking, no drugs, no unprotected sex, no getting in cars with drunk drivers, no letting your friends drive drunk. Sam, of course, just rolled his eyes, telling Dean he wasn't an idiot.

The next part was icing on the cake.

_"If you do happen to drink, call me. I don't care if you've only had a beer, Sam. _Call me_. I don't want anything happening to you. I won't ask questions, I won't yell. You'll be scotch free until tomorrow morning. Just call."_ Sam actually seemed a bit touched at that and nodded, before Dean pushed him towards his friend's car. He really didn't need to go into a chick flick moment.

As Dean drove to the house the party was at, he was a little scared. What had happened? He really hoped Sam hadn't been drinking. And he really hoped that the party hadn't gotten out of hand and a fight started. That'd be bad. Really bad. Dean would have to kick some ass.

Dean pulled up next to the house, and immediately saw Sam supporting the weight of one of his friends, who was grinning like an idiot as he waved at everyone and everything around him, even a boulder in the yard; he was so obviously drunk. When Sam saw Dean's car, he seemed relieved, and started walking his friend over.

"Hey," Dean said as Sam opened the back door, helping his friend in. "I take it we're dropping your friend off?"

Sam nodded and got in the passenger seat, looking hopeful. "Please? He's really drunk, Dean. I don't even know how many beers he had. I know he had a few shots, too. I tried to keep an eye on him, but people kept pulling me away and I—" He clutched his friend's keys in his hand, looking in the back seat for a short moment.

"Hey, Sam, it's okay," Dean interrupted, nodding. "You did good. How about you drive his car to his house and I'll follow, okay? Wait, have you been drinking?" When Sam shook his head, Dean let a small smile slip, though it was gone in an instant. "Okay, you drive his car. We'll drop him off and head home." When Sam looked down at the keys once more, Dean put a hand on his little brother's shoulder, who slowly looked up at the shorter Winchester. "You did good, Sammy. Real good."

-.-.-.-

"I'm sorry, Dean. Okay? I'm sorry. But this is how it has to be."

Dean watched his eighteen year old brother pack up his things, throwing them into a suitcase without a second glance. His acceptance letter to Stanford laid on the bed, looking so innocent, so inviting; when, in reality, it was the downfall of the Winchester family. It was to blame for all this.

"Sam, do you remember what I told you when you were a kid? The one that I always stressed, above everything else?" Dean asked, crossing his arms as tears threatened to spill. But, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. Not now. Not in front of Sam. Not like this.

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean, nodding softly. "Yeah. 'Don't abandon your family, Sam. In the end, they're all you've got.'"

"Then why are leaving?" Dean practically yelled, anger masking the pain he was feeling. Sammy was leaving him. Sammy, his little brother, his _baby_ brother, was leaving him… How could Dean possibly get over that?

"Because I need this, Dean. It's not my fault I can't ever come back. Blame Dad for that. Blame Dad for being such an asshole, okay? I'm leaving. And that's that." He quickly shut his suitcase before walking past his brother, towards the bedroom door. After one last look at Dean, he turned away. "Good bye, Dean."

Dean couldn't believe it.

Sammy always listened to him. Why was this time different?


End file.
